


Take Your Time

by Tearsaresalty



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Light Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tearsaresalty/pseuds/Tearsaresalty
Summary: It's not often that you have the opportunity to look at him. To really look at him.(Or: MC wakes up earlier and manages to catch a glimpse of Seven's unguarded face. Thoughts spill to various directions afterwards.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep so I wrote this. First time trying this kind of point of view, first time trying this fandom too, so go easy on me?

It's not often that you have the opportunity to look at him. To _really_ look at him.

Usually he is hunched over his computer, mercilessly typing numbers and complex codes on the keyboard, eyes hidden behind glasses, hidden behind red bangs. When he works, nothing else exists in the world. Sometimes, if you call his name, _Seven_ , to get his attention, he turns, he stares, he grunts  _what do you want_ or complains that he is busy and that you shouldn't bother him. But the resolve is always there. He is always guarded.

So it takes an early rise, a dream gone wrong, a dream which turned into a nightmare for you to really see him. Defenseless. Exposed. Genuine. _Saeyoung_.

You can only see _Saeyoung_ when he sleeps.

He is on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other leisurely curled against his chest. You reach out, you touch the prominent veins, the jutting knuckles, the pads of his fingers. His hands are so wonderful, always busy but always gentle with their touches. You love his hands.

A sigh goes past his lips and it catches your attention. You smile when you see him nuzzle your pillow and exhale again. It's almost hilarious; his hair is flattened against the pillow on one side and fluffed up on the other, which means he's going to have the most epic bedhead in the history of bedheads when he wakes up. It also means that you are going to tease him about it.

Carefully not to wake him, you push his bangs away from his fluttering eyelids. There are dark circles under his eyes, but it's not new. Considering the few hours of sleep he gets on a daily basis, these circles should be nothing. You always worry about him destroying himself but he tells you not to. _He's not planning to live long anyway._ __  
  
You so want to slap him across the face when he says that. But instead you give him a cold look and he averts his gaze, ashamed. The conversation ends there though; neither of you wants to fight about it.

"I need time," he says later. He's hugging you from behind, his face in your neck when he speaks. It's his way of apologizing.

_Take all the time in the world_ , you reply, _Fighting with so many demons isn't easy._ __  
  
He hugs you tighter. He wonders, "What have I done to deserve you?"

Sometimes you wish you could hold him. Hold him so tight his broken pieces glue back together, even though their jagged edges may end up cutting you too. He deserves this. He deserves this because he's intelligent and funny, because he cares deeply, he feels deeply, he's hurt deeply. He deserves this because of how happy he looks whenever you talk about something you love - of how happy he looks when he has made you laugh.

You cup his face and trace the slope of his cheekbone with your thumb. Good thing he's asleep - he almost never lets you do it when he's awake. It is always so hard for him to accept affection, even though he gives it so generously. You have lost count of the times he changed the subject when Yoosung tried to comfort him, or when Zen was asking him what was wrong. You've become numb to the pain of his lash-outs whenever you show him that you care.

He always apologizes for doing it to you. "I'm sorry I'm not perfect," he says. You endure though. Because he doesn't have to be perfect - he's human. Because he doesn't know what being loved actually is.

Because he is worth it. All of it.

Your thumb crosses over his bottom lip and it's you who sighs this time. You sigh because of the pent emotions you keep away from him, the emotions you have for him but he won't accept. You can't express your love to him often; you'll scare him and he will run away, like he always does.

He keeps you within and arm's reach. "I don't want to hurt you," he says, dejected. You understand; it's because he cares so much. It's because he's incredibly strong and strong people always want to carry the whole world on their shoulders. You somehow admire him for that, even though you wish he'd share some of the burden with you.

_He can have all the time he needs_ , you think. You lean in and kiss him softly on the lips. He shifts. A few moments later, his eyes slide open. Always the lightest sleeper. Perhaps a habit he developed for his job; or to protect his little brother from their monster of a mother.

It takes a while for him to come back from whatever dream he had been in, though. His golden eyes blink a lot of times before they focus on yours. Then a small smile quirks his lips. "Good morning," he says.

You feel something swell inside of you. Emotions. These emotions you have for him but have no outlet for. They were always stronger when he smiled like this; soft and unguarded and real. That's all you wanted for him; to be happy. With you or without you, it didn't matter.

_I love you, Saeyoung_ , you say. It leaves your lips as easy as a breath, despite the fact you don't say it very often.

His breath catches, his smile fades. You can see it in his eyes - how much he struggles to accept it, how much he hates himself that these words come out of your lips for someone like him. It's so brief though, because he looks away within seconds. He knows that his eyes are giving away all of his feelings, his thoughts. That's why he avoids eye contact with you.

You don't expect a response until you get one. He reaches out and wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him in a tight hug. You hug him back, tighter, as if you're competing on who is the strongest. You are both strong, though in different ways. And perhaps that's what keeps you together.

"I love you too," you hear him murmur in your hair. You smile in his shoulder, proud. Not because he admits he loves you - you already know that, as he does nothing to hide it. You're proud to see him try; you're proud to see him open up, even in the slightest. He is starting to believe you won't break because of him.

_That's it; lean some of the weight on me_ , you think and kiss his shoulder.

He gently pries you away from him. When your eyes lock, you smile because he's smiling too. There it is; acceptance. He accepted you this time. Good. It's a start.

Next thing you know, he's kissing you, rolling you to your back so that he's on top of you. His arms are braced by your head, supporting his weight so that it doesn't crush you while your hands rest on the small of his back.

"You're so good for me," he says when he pulls away.

You feel the same, so you let him know. His red eyebrows rise questioningly. "Really?"

_You're the honey and butter to my chip_ , you say. His mouth drops open. His eyes widen. You knew he'd enjoy the reference so you smirk.

"Does this mean we can make a Honey Butter Chip?"

_Huh?!_

Then his entire weight drops on you and you gasp a laugh. He hugs you, twists your linked bodies around and coos, "Look at us, we are a honey butter chip!"

You can't breathe well but you laugh. You laugh because he's laughing too. Then you kiss and it's long and intense and beautiful because he's wide open and lets you pour some of your love in the cracks of his soul. It doesn't hurt, like he's so afraid of.

When he pulls back to look at you, his face is alive, his gaze serene. He's happy for the time being and that's all you'll ever ask of him.

"Coffee?", he chirps. You nod. With a final peck on your lips, Saeyoung hops off the bed and skids to the kitchen to make your coffee.

You watch him, calm and relieved. You're glad.

See, you're not there to love the trauma and the sadness out of him. It's impossible to do that. You're there to make sure he knows he has someone to turn to when things get tough and he can't stay alone in his head. You love him the way he is; you don't want to change him. You want to see him change on his own, you want to see him grow, to become the best he can be. Whether he does it for you, his brother or for himself it doesn't matter. He is good enough; he just have to feel good enough as well.

He is trying to fight the demons that haunt him. He tries to heal, to be happy.

He's getting there.

And this way, perhaps, you'll end up healing as well.

**Author's Note:**

> I case you didn't notice, I love Saeyoung. A whole damn lot.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Comments are always very much appreciated ^_^


End file.
